Phantasmagoria
by Edinburgh Love
Summary: phan·tas·ma·go·ri·a noun 2. a constantly shifting complex succession of things seen or imagined. Select moments in the lives of Angelina and the Weasley twins. My first fic. Please R&R.
1. Genetics

**A/N: **_This is the first in a series of drabbles about Fred, George and Angelina. Some will be about only one of the characters while others will include two or all three, and there will be stuff from before, during and after the books take place. Maybe it's because I miss Fred so much that I've been staying up late dreaming up these ideas. And, as this is my first post, any reviews, constructive criticism, etc. would be greatly appreciated. I'm not even sure if people want to read my stuff in the first place._

_Anyway, I don't want to ramble on about it forever, so here it is._

_Harry and his world are not my property and no copyright infringement is intended._

* * *

Genetics

"This isn't at all fair. You realize that, don't you?"

"What's not?" Angelina asked distractedly as she made a final attempt to punch her pillow into a more supportive shape before finally lying down. The past few months had been filled with this struggle for comfort, a tempest through which she often had trouble seeing the sun.

George could see the frustration in her eyes and waited until she showed no signs of a need to reposition herself before he spoke again. It had always pained him to see her so uneasy. "Well," he answered, "looking at you, with your chocolate skin and those big, beautiful brown eyes, and your lovely black hair, and looking at my pasty, ginger – albeit amazingly good looking – self, I can't help but think I don't stand a chance. Granted, I'm no genetics expert or anything."

Angelina smiled as her husband placed a hand on her swollen stomach, knowing that any day now she'd be able to hold the very thing that would atone for the discomfort and anxiety that plagued her most nights. "Well I guess it's good you think my features are so lovely and beautiful and – chocolaty, then," she said, not realizing how silly this sounded until George burst out laughing.

"Right, well _delicious_, then. Our children will be lovely and beautiful and delicious," he said, causing them both to laugh until they had tears in their eyes.

"Yes, but how will we ever spot them in crowds?"

"Trust me. Somehow I don't think that's something you'll ever have to worry about."

* * *

_Please let me know what you think. _

_More to come._

dd.


	2. Fags

**A/N: **_This one takes place on Christmas morning of our characters' sixth year. I had this image in my head of Ginny writing home to tell Molly all about the boys trying to find dates for the Yule Ball and this came to me. Hope you like it._

_As always, JKR owns everything you recognize._

* * *

Fags

"She didn't," groaned Fred.

"She did!" exclaimed George.

Angelina paused in the entrance to the twins' dorm and adjusted the oversized purple sweater, one of many gifts she'd opened that morning. If the orange 'A' across the front hadn't been indication enough of its maker, the mortified look on Fred's face certainly confirmed that this was in fact one of Mrs. Weasley's creations. "Oh stop. It isn't that bad. It's kind of sweet, actually," she said. "I don't know why you lot haven't got yours on," she added as she sat between the boys on George's bed.

Fred saw that her sleeves were far too long and full of loose threads. Yet their color was in perfect harmony with the dark skin they covered, and he thought, _maybe Mum's sweaters aren't so bad after all_. His motions mirrored those of his twin as he reached for his own sweater and pulled it over his head.

"Aren't you three a sight?" called Lee Jordan from across the room.

A proud grin spread across Angelina's face. "You're just jealous she hasn't sent you one too."

"Nah. I've never been one for fags."

All at once their eyes fell on the letters across Fred's, Angelina's and George's chests and the room filled with laughter.

It was going to be a good Christmas.

* * *

_Please take the time to let me know what you think._

_Thanks._

much love,  
dd.


	3. Secrets

**A/N: **_So I'm avoiding a lot of the sadder stuff that occurs during and shortly after Book 7 like the plague because it's honestly still so painful to even think about, and I'm sure I'm not ready to do them justice anyway. With that said, this one is a little bit sadder than the previous two. I'd say it just depends on my mood when I sit down to write, but honestly I was in pretty high spirits when I wrote this one. I hope it still comes across realistically. Plus I think my good mood added a much needed sense of hope._

_Also, I should point out to those of you who don't know that in the UK a fag is a cigarette. I shared Fags with a girl I babysit who loves Harry Potter and since I had to give her a disclaimer on it, I figured maybe some other people might need it too._

_Finally, a huge thanks goes out to _**monkeyface52** _for being my first and only reviewer so far. If you love stories about the twins and Angelina, you should definitely check her out._

* * *

Secrets

George sat in the September sun with his shoulders hunched and head bowed so that his face was obscured by a mass of shaggy orange hair. After a few silent minutes his fingers brushed his hair back, tucking it behind his only ear, so that the sun shone in his eyes when he looked up.

"Before you go thinking I'm completely barmy, I'll have you know I'm aware today is Tuesday, not Sunday. But, as I gave Ron the day off so he could go with Mum to see off Hermione and Ginny, I thought maybe I'd take a break too, only I haven't got anything else to do but come here or go to the pub." The air chilled his lungs as he inhaled deeply. "So really, you're quite a lucky bastard in that I chose you over the drink and decided to grace you with my presence twice this week." His voice cracked as he spoke the last few words and he blinked profusely in an attempt to stop the tears from coming. Fred had always had an easier time using their shared humor to alleviate painful situations.

Once he had managed to regain some composure, George wiped his wet face on his sweater sleeve. "Shut up," he mumbled. "I'm trying." He stifled a sob. "Fleur's pregnant, by the way," he said much more loudly. "Yeah, I know, big shock there. I suppose the biggest surprise is that it took this long, what with Bill's wolfish instincts and – well, you've seen Fleur." He smiled in spite of himself. "Bill told me yesterday. They only just found out. Not even Mum knows –"

A twig snapped nearby, ensnaring George's attention and stopping his speech. He turned and saw Angelina approaching from a few feet away and wondered how long she'd been there.

"Congratulations, uncles," she said as she joined her friend on the grass.

"Shit, Fred," George said to the stone grave marker. "You can stop concerning yourself with my mental well-being and start worrying about what Mum'll do to your two best visitors if she ever finds out we knew about this before she did. You know how she hates secrets."

He wasn't sure what exactly had changed that allowed him to joke so assertively this time, but was glad nevertheless as he and Angelina laughed into the wind.

* * *

_Please let me know what you think, especially if you're enjoying the stories so far. It only takes a few seconds to leave a review._

_Also, if you can recommend any amazing authors or stories, I'm always up for something new._

dd.


	4. Perfection

**A/N:**_I don't know about you guys but I definitely needed something really happy and beautiful to come after that last one. It's kind of a weird juxtaposition but I actually like how these two work together. Let me know if you agree._

_Thank you to everyone who has read the story, especially _**monkeyface52 **_and an anonymous reader who have been kind enough to review. Your words of encouragement and appreciation have had me smiling nonstop. (__And to_ **too lazy to log in :)**, _please send me your PenName so I can be sure to thank you properly!)_

_I'm watching my cousin's kids today, which means I'm hanging out on the couch watching them run around and play Rock Band, so hopefully I'll be able to get at least one or two more chapters up by tonight._

_Enjoy (and pleeeaaase review)!!_

_Angelina, Fred, George, and Pig are all property of JKR._

* * *

Perfection

A very loud laugh - the kind that makes every person in a crowded room look around for its source - rang out in the snowy night. Luckily for Angelina, the Weird Sisters were playing at least loudly enough to camouflage the sounds of her mirth even as she and Fred, who were both either very daring or very drunk, braved the ice-encrusted grounds in their dress robes.

"Shhh!" Fred laughed. "McGonagall will put me and George in detention until next term if she finds out we put Ogden's in the punch. And I'd hate to be the one to break this to you, but your laugh is a bit of a giveaway."

Angelina punched him in the arm. "Where is George anyway?"

"Off dancing with Pigwidgeon, I expect," he answered automatically, which only made Angelina return to her fit of laughter. "Yeah, so it's a good thing we're out here, or else we might have to endure the sight of them snogging all night."

Angelina laughed more loudly still before lacing her fingers in his, sobering the mood slightly. "Tonight has been amazing," she said dreamily.

"Yeah," Fred agreed. He watched her as she seemed to watch the ground sparkle brightly before dying in shadows with each crunching step. Everything about the night had been perfect, from Angelina's raspberry colored dress and the way she'd worn her hair, to getting absolutely sloshed and dancing so wildly that couples nearby feared for their safety. He couldn't imagine having a better time with anyone else.

"You know," Angelina said, "I was actually a little nervous about how this might go, coming to the ball with you instead of a proper date."

Fred slackened his grip on Angelina's hand, a likely result of the sinking feeling in his chest. "What do you mean, 'a proper date'?" he asked, trying not to sound as hurt as he felt.

"I just mean that…" she paused, struggling to find the right words, "well a ball should be sort of romantic, shouldn't it? And you and George are like brothers to me. And then when you asked me the way that you did – I don't mind, of course – but Alicia said that I shouldn't get–"

Fred stopped her lips with his own, forcing her to step back as he kissed her hard and with more passion than he had previously known to be possible. He placed a hand behind her as she kissed him back, pulling her body into his as tongues collided with tongue and lips and teeth. Clouds of condensation formed with their erratic breaths in the wintry air and Angelina's fingers found Fred's jaw, slowing him until his mouth's movements matched hers.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed before they finally pulled away from one another; their faces remained only inches apart as their eyes opened and met.

"Wow," she breathed.

Fred grinned, feeling slightly dizzy. "Yeah," he whispered. _Definitely perfection._

* * *

_AAAAHHH!!_

_I just had to write Fred and Angelina's first kiss. The way I picture it, he was insanely passionate (read: insanely sloppy) about it, which was, in a way, kind of adorable to Angelina, who quickly showed him the ropes._

_Girls and guys just go about snogging in their own very different ways, I suppose._

_And don't wo__rry; we'll find out how George spent the evening of the Yule Ball eventually too. It's bad enough that JKR left him out of the chapter, and now I've gone and done it too. His time will come, though – and I can assure you he most definitely wasn't snogging Pigwidgeon. Sorry, Fred.  
_

_Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed this moment as much as our young couple did...and more reviews would really make my day._

dd.


	5. List

**A/N: **_I'm not really sure where this came from but I wanted to write something that was just about the twins being silly together. I know I said I'd post more yesterday but I ended up having a pretty hectic night, so hopefully I'll get around to doing more today instead._

_I'm absolutely thrilled about the amount of people who have been reading my story so far, but it's a little disheartening that I haven't been getting reviews. If you like the story, please take the time to let me know. And if you don't like it, what can I do to make it better?_

_I'm not begging – I just feel slightly uninspired when only two people like my story enough that they feel compelled to leave some feedback. And to those two people, THANK YOU!!_

* * *

List

The twins beamed as they knocked rather forcefully on their brother's door. Percy answered promptly, his hair and clothes looking much too tidy for a man who had been home from work for quite some time. It was all Fred and George could do not to laugh at him as his expression of concern quickly turned to one of annoyance upon identifying his visitors.

"Boys, whatever trick you're about to play on me, can't you please wait until tomorrow? I'm in the middle of working on –"

"Trick? Fred, did I hear correctly?"

"It sounded like he said trick."

"It did, didn't it? Appalling."

"I'm scandalized. What ever would make our dear –"

"Oh alright, just get on with it," Percy interrupted.

The twins grinned identically. "Well," Fred began, "after much consideration in the nights since the World Cup –"

"– we've decided to set straight our priorities –"

"– by composing a list of life goals, to be completed –"

"– as the title suggests," they both said, before Fred finished, "before death."

Percy's expression changed again, this time to one of interest. His tone, however, remained monotonous and official. "And what's this to do with me?"

"We were hoping you could help us," the twins said together.

"Very well," said Percy, who now looked quite impressed. "Let's see it."

Fred pulled a piece of crumbled looking parchment from his pocket and handed it to his older brother, who adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat before reading aloud, "'_Fred and George's List of Things to do Before Our Demise.' _That's a bit melodramatic, don't you think?" 

"Just read the list," Fred urged.

_"'Open a successful joke shop.' _Well that's very admirable, boys, but if I might persuade you to pursue –"

"Read," George said.

"'_Win the Quidditch Cup. Get Angelina Johnson to confess her undying love for us_?'" Percy read it as though it was a question, eyebrows raised at his brothers.

"What? We can dream," said Fred. "Go on then."

"'_Invent something Dumbledore might enjoy. Invent something the Ministry might find useful so Percy might finally appreciate our intelligence. __Make Mum proud, even if we did only get three OWLs apiece._ _Get Veela women to shag us –_'"

"'– _stupid,'_" the twins supplied as Percy's voice caught in his throat and his face, neck and ears grew bright red.

"Here, I'll finish for you," George said, taking the parchment from his brother's hand. "'_Get Percy to read something dirty aloud.'_ Oh good, we're already well on our way then," he said, pulling a quill from his pocket before crossing out the last line on the page

"I told you he'd help us," said Fred to his twin as they retreated to their bedroom across the hall, leaving their brother looking quite mortified in his doorway.

* * *

_That was fun. I love Percy. Come to think of it, I love all the Weasley men. I'm sure Ron will get thrown into this mix soon enough._

_Let me know what you think. _

danielle.


	6. Jelly

**A/N:** _Yay!! Not only did I manage to write two chapters in one day, but I'm starting to get more reviews!! Thank you to _**too lazy to log in :)**, **761622**,_ and _**Chocofreakazoid**_for leaving some feedback, and a very special thanks to _**monkeyface52**_ for reviewing every chapter so far. If you like my stuff, you'll love hers, so be sure to check it out._

_Anything you recognize belongs to JKR, but you already know that.  
_

* * *

Jelly

"We could try a bat-bogey hex," suggested George.

"Or a curse of the bogies," contributed Fred. It was their first time on the Hogwarts Express, the first time they were officially allowed to use magic, and the twins had been sure to keep a mental list of all the best-sounding spells their older brothers had mentioned through the years in preparation for this very moment.

"Or a body-bind curse."

"Or a leg-locker."

"Or a jelly-legs jinx."

"Or a jelly-brain."

They paused in contemplation of the spell's suggested effect.

"Do you know that one?" Fred asked.

"No. Do you?"

Fred pulled his trunk off the rack and began rummaging through it, destroying the neat piles of folded clothes his mother had packed so diligently in the process. "It had better be in _The Standard Book of Spells_. What use is any good spell if you can't learn it in time to try it the first chance you get?"

Just then the compartment door slid open, revealing a rather tall dark-skinned girl with long braided hair.

"Hi. Sorry to bother…er…did your friend forget something?" she said to George, her eyes falling on Fred, whose upper body was still buried in the trunk.

Fred looked up at her, meeting her eyes for a fraction of a second before she looked to George and back to him again.

"Hi," Fred said. "I'm Fred Weasley, and this is my doppelganger, Fred Two, but we call him George to avoid confusion." He smiled when the girl laughed.

"Your brother is the Gryffindor Quidditch captain," she said, rather than asked. "Charlie Weasley, isn't it? I'm going to play chaser, but next year, of course. Because, you know, the house teams never let first years play. Hey, can my friend and I come sit with you? She's just down the train and we can't find anyone willing to let a couple of first years join them."

"Yeah, sure," Fred said.

"Thanks I'll just go get my friend then. We only just met but she's very nice. You'll like her. Thanks again," she called as the compartment door slid shut.

"She sure can talk, that one. Now where the hell's that book?" Fred said, reaching into his trunk again. "Hey, what's wrong with you?" he asked.

George swallowed, his eyes still glued to the place where the girl had stood. "I think she knows the jelly-brain jinx."

* * *

_Aww. Haha I see Fred as one of those kids who still wants to build mud forts when all his friends (and his twin) start having crushes on girls. But then again Fred (the way I see him anyway) would be the more outgoing one with the ladies, so they kind of balance each other out. Granted they're only 11 here, so I'm sure George will get over his little mini-crush by the next time he sees Angelina anyway, especially if she continues to be so nervous and chatty.  
_

_As always, pleeeeaaaase review. It's about the only thing that makes this all worthwhile._

dd.


	7. Flit

**A/N: **_Yay I managed to get one done before midnight, though it'll be later than that by the time I actually post it. Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to review, especially my latest reviewer, _**Nacata**.

* * *

Flit

George bounced on the balls of his feet, eyes glued to the crowded street outside the shop window, looking uncharacteristically anxious.

"Relax," said Ron, hoisting himself onto the counter. "Her practice probably ran late, with the season starting and all. Hey, what did you get her anyway?"

"Just some fireworks. They're her favorite."

"Bloody hell, George. How do you go from _Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches_ to giving a girl fireworks for her birthday?"

"Sod off," George said playfully. "Angelina's just a friend. And she loves Wildfire Whiz-Bangs. It's a good gift. And get your arse off my counter."

Ron slid down; his feet only needed to drop a few inches before they met the floor. "I'm just saying. Before Hermione left for school I took her to the bloody _bal-lay_ as an early birthday present." George eyed him quizzically. "It's some Muggle dancing thing. They wear these poncey little outfits and flit around – it's a bit scary, to be honest, but she'd been mentioning it for ages and –"

"But Hermione is your _girlfriend_. Angelina _isn't _my girlfriend. In fact, she's _Fred's ex-girlfriend_," he said, not meaning to sound so annoyed. "And anyway, she'd never go for the idea of spending the evening watching Muggles prancing around like a bunch of twits and poofters, though when I think about it that way, it does sound quite comical. Where do they do these things?"

Ron had just finished describing the small West End theater where he'd taken Hermione when a smiling Angelina knocked on the glass door.

George reached for the wrapped Deflagration Deluxe box, deciding that Angelina would still enjoy the fireworks even if they did try the whole _bal-lay_ suggestion. "Right, so please don't blow the place up while I'm gone. You have the list I left of things that need to get done?"

Ron waved the parchment at his brother. "Don't worry. Have fun and I'll see you in the morning."

"We're not –"

"Well I had better go get started with all the work you left me. Bye!" yelled Ron over his shoulder as he made a mad dash for the back room.

George opened the door, meeting Angelina in an enormous hug. "Happy birthday," he said into her hair as she squeezed him tightly. He couldn't remember ever having been so confused.

* * *

_Okay so I sort of rushed that one a little. I hope it's still as good as the rest. Please let me know what you think._

dd.


	8. Misinterpretation

**A/N: **_So I really, really, really, really love this one. It might be my favorite so far. And it took me the longest to write out of any of them, so I really hope you all enjoy it. Misinterpretation goes along with Genetics, so be sure to red that one again if you haven't lately. (I say this as though Genetics was posted months ago when really it's been less than a week!)  
_

_Thank you to everyone who's been following the story, especially those of you who have taken the time to review._

* * *

Misinterpretation

George leaned over the hospital bed and pressed his lips to his wife's temple, allowing them to sense that she was both smiling and crying. "It's okay, love," he said. "He still looks more like you than me."

It was true. The tiny face that peeked out of the blue blankets distinctly resembled that of its mother. He had Angelina's nose and lips, and when he opened them, he had her eyes too. But his skin and hair were fairer than hers, and George could swear he'd spotted a glint of red in the newborn's curls when the light hit them just so.

Angelina turned to her husband and kissed his lips. "Don't be such a prat," she said, which to him was just as good as if she'd said, "I love you too."

"Don't worry, misses," said the chubby little nurse who alone remained in the room after the other healers had left, beaming as she overlooked the scene. "He'll likely darken up in a few days."

Angelina chuckled at the woman's obvious misinterpretation of their humor, but George's smile fell flat. How many times before had he joked about the probability that his children would never look like him? And now he couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed.

"What will he be called?" the nurse asked.

They had never discussed it, not even once, but both instinctively answered, "Fred." Upon hearing each other's answers, the couple looked at one another again, their eyes smiling even though their mouths did not. And George knew she was thinking about him too, that they were both wishing bizarrely that he could be there for this moment, even though it would've never happened this way if he'd lived. George dropped his eyes to his lap.

This, he thought, was the end of what ifs. If his twin could exist in this life, his son could not. It wasn't fair, of course, to think of it in terms of a tradeoff, but how could George, knowing what his son looked like, how his cry sounded, possibly wish for his life to be any different?

"Nurse, would you mind fetching mine and my husband's families? I'm sure my mother-in-law is about ready to hex the poor bloke they've got holding her back from meeting her grandson. Thanks."

George heard the door open and shut as the nurse left the room and looked to his wife with unshed tears in his eyes.

"Do you think I could hold him?"

She scooped up the mass of blanket that rested on her chest and handed it to him. He rocked it gently, extracting a little hand and holding it between his fingers, studying it.

"You're going to be a great dad, George."

George smiled at the sound of the last two words as he held the sleeping baby Fred. He had everything he needed.

* * *

_Please let me know if you liked it. I think I'd have to throw myself off a building if I wrote what I thought to be one of my best chapters yet and no one reviewed._

danielle.


	9. Balm

**A/N: **_So this one is really short and probably not that good. I've been kind of distracted lately, but I knew the longer I went without writing, the harder it would be to come up with anything._

_Also, I've been trying to post author's notes on my bio page even when I don't get around to writing an actual chapter, so if you're ever wondering what's going on you can usually check there._

_Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. You guys rock!! And you make me smile like WOW._

_Puking Pastilles are property of the Weasley twins, who (along with Angelina, Ginny, that Ravenclaw git, Quidditch and... okay EVERYTHING) belong to J.K. Rowling._

* * *

Balm

"Oi! That's our Quidditch captain you're snogging!" yelled George, seizing a pillow from the nearest armchair and chucking it toward the couple. "She yells enough as it is without having your terrible kissing on her mind when we're out on pitch."

Fred disentangled himself from Angelina, grinning like an idiot. "On the contrary, I'm sacrificing my lips so that our captain might be in better spirits for the next practice."

George looked to Angelina, who merely shrugged innocently. "He _is_ good."

"If I wanted to be sick, Angelina, I'd eat a Puking Pastille."

"It could be worse," she said. "You could have walked in on Ginny and that Ravenclaw git Michael Corner instead of me and Fred." Both twins groaned in disgust. Fred slid to the other side of the couch, as far away from Angelina as he could get without actually getting up. "I know," she said, as though they were disgruntled more by the fact that Corner was on the Ravenclaw team than they were by the fact that he was dating their little sister. "Their team is really good this season. I bet it'll be us against them in the final and we're going to have to practice really hard if we want to win. And we're playing Slytherin next week and Umbridge will do anything she can to give them an upper hand, so we'll have to work at least twice as hard. And –"

George stopped listening as Angelina continued her rant. "I hope you've invested in some lip balm," he said to his twin, before retreating back up the stairs.

* * *

_I'm going to try to post another chapter within the next few hours now that the creative juices are flowing. I hope that one wasn't too substandard._

_Leave some love if you enjoyed it._

dd.


	10. Skilled

**A/N: **_So honestly, I feel a little cheap for posting two short, kind-of-funny chapters back-to-back when I'm capable of much better work, but I have this really huge paper to do today and that's occupying most of my brain capacity right now, so humor is about all I can do._

_Also, have I mentioned that my Creative Writing II professor has given me straight C's on all my work so far this semester? I handed him a piece of writing that earned me an A in my CW1 class, and this guy gave me a C on it. I'm beginning to see him as the Snape to my Harry. My friend suggested I print out this story and my reviews for him, but alas, Snape-man sees Fan Fiction as unoriginal and a complete waste of time. (P.S. The CW1 teacher thought FF was about the coolest thing EVER, but that was loooonnnnggg before I started reading or writing any.)  
_

_And I'm willing to bet that I'll be able to pump out another of these short & sweet chapters in the process of my procrastination or when my brain begins to hurt from all the research on Neoclassicism, so read, review, and look for more later._

_And now that I've just about concluded the longest author's note ever, a huge shout out goes out to everyone who's taken the time to review!! Seriously, you make my day._

* * *

Skilled

"I can't believe Fred is taking Angelina to the ball," Lee moaned.

"I know," George agreed absentmindedly. It was true: he couldn't believe it. But he didn't want to keep hearing about it either.

"She's the best looking girl in our year – maybe even in the school. And she's brilliant at Quidditch."

"I know," George said again.

"And she just said yes, just like that?"

"Yeah."

"Blimey." Lee said. "It's probably just because I didn't ask her first. I'll bet she thought she should just say yes to the first bloke who asked her just so she wouldn't end up dateless."

"Maybe." George knew that this wasn't true. Angelina could have gotten anyone she'd wanted to take her to the ball. She would have never ended up alone, and if somehow she had, she wasn't the type of girl to mind. But if George went along with the logic that she'd only said yes to Fred because he'd been the first to ask her, it meant that, as much as he hated himself for not being the one to ask first, at least Angelina wasn't going with Fred because she liked him better. George really didn't want her to like Fred better. It wasn't that he _fancied _Angelina. He just didn't like the idea of Angelina fancying _Fred_.

"Who are you going with then?" Lee asked, interrupting George's thoughts.

"Alicia."

"You've asked her already?"

"No," George answered dully. "She asked me."

"Fair enough. I guess that leaves me with Katie then."

George snorted. "What makes you so sure she'll have you?"

"Well if you lot can get dates that easily, I expect it can't be that difficult. Or I can always ask your sister. Only joking!" he quickly added as George narrowed his eyes irritably. "Though, I guess if Katie is taken I can always ask a younger girl. They're probably all lined up waiting for some charming older student like myself to ask them."

"There's the fearless Gryffindor coming out in you."

"Says the bloke who's letting his twin brother take the girl of our dreams to the ball."

"Speak for yourself," George said. "I'm quite happy to go with Alicia. And judging by the fact that _she_ asked _me_, I'd say the feeling is mutual. That leaves you in the same class as my little brother, mate."

"But I, unlike Ron, am skilled with women."

George laughed. "Says the bloke who's letting his best mates take the best women to the ball."

"I should go ask Katie then."

"Probably," said George, laughing as he watched Lee clamber out the portrait hole before he was too late. George still felt that his twin had made out best in the way of dates, but he couldn't complain.

* * *

_Haha Lee thinks he's got game. _

_Okay, so yeah, I'm admitting that chapter really wasn't that great. But at least now we know that George went to the ball with Alicia (shocker, I know). Sorry to all you George/Pigwidgeon shippers out there._

_Reviews would be awesome, especially since they'll distract me from my ridiculously boring paper.  
_

_much love,  
_danielle.


	11. Wager

**A/N: **_Okay, so I haven't updated in what feels like forever, and I owe all of you a huge apology for the serious delay. Truth be told, I've been working on a short story for my Creative Writing class which has taken up pretty much all my free time. With that said, I actually wrote this short story with the full intention of adapting it into the first chapter of a new fic I'm planning, but don't expect to read it any time soon, as it's going to be a pretty big project and I still have a lot of issues to work out for it. More on that soon…_

_Plus, I wanted the next chapter to have a little more depth than the last two, which requires much more time and energy. And I have a feeling a lot of you will hate what I came up with anyway. __Chapter 11 is my longest yet and I sincerely hope the scene lives up to everyone's expectations. Please, please, please let me know what you think._

_Thank you to everyone who's been following the story, especially _**monkeyface52**_, _**too lazy to log in :)**_, _**761622**_,_** Chocofreakazoid**_,_** Nacata**_,_** gothicpiratevictoria**_,_** labratlove**_,_** Immortal Sailor Cosmos**_,_** jocat**_,_** MadeNew**_,_** you know who **_(aka my boyfriend Scott, whom I constantly torture with my perpetual ramblings about my story ideas even though he doesn't even like Harry Potter), _**Luciana Sawyer Snape**_, and _**Eternal Silver Flame**_, for taking the time to review. Your kind words keep me going._

* * *

Wager

Angelina lifted the large album from the coffee table and sat back on the couch of what was once the twins', now George's, flat. It wasn't by any means a beautiful book: its heavy, leathery cover was cracked and worn and had undoubtedly been so since long before George had received it.

The spine creaked as she pulled open the cover and Angelina looked to George, who'd been making tea in the kitchen. He turned round in apparent acknowledgment of the noise. "I haven't looked at it in a while," he said. Angelina returned her gaze to the first page, on which a young and smiling Mrs. Weasley seemed to be trying to arrange the two small bundles in her arms in some way which would allow her to wave. Angelina smiled back at the portrait, sure that she wasn't alone in her inability to distinguish the bundle that was Fred from that which was George. On the next page, Mr. Weasley joined his wife, relieving one of her arms, so that both parents waved, beaming, their eyes alternating between looking at the photographer, each other and the infants they held. The opposite page showed Mrs. Weasley with both babies again while her husband held a toddler. The eyes of two small boys danced around the room as the brothers pushed each other gently, both looking as though they'd rather be at home, playing. Angelina couldn't help but giggle. If only Bill and Charlie had known they'd have to endure this twice more – and now Bill was expecting his own child.

George placed two teas on the table and joined Angelina, sitting closer to her than was normal so he too could look at the pictures. "What's so funny?" he asked. Angelina pointed to the tiny Bill. "Yeah, I'd love to see the look on his face when it's his own five kids shuffling about."

The next several pages were full of laughs. The toddler versions of the twins, as it turned out, were equally as funny as their teenage forms.

"We thought we were training to be beaters," laughed George, indicating one picture in which eight-year-old miniatures of he and his twin brandished frying pans. Their identical grins revealed missing front teeth in both mouths. "I'll bet you can't say who's who."

"You're on. What do we wager?"

"Whatever you want, because I know you can't tell and I'm willing to risk the odds."

She thought for a fraction of a second before realizing there was nothing she wanted that he could possibly give her. She'd want for him to be happy, and she couldn't give him that either. "Fred's on the left and you're on the right."

"Wrong."

"Sod off," Angelina joked. "You're the one who can't tell. I'm right."

"Prove it," George said, pulling away from her and crossing his arms.

"Fine. It's in your eyes."

Angelina was slightly startled as George leaned over her suddenly, bringing his face strangely close to hers as he pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. "Are you feeling ill, Angelina? Twins. Same eye color. Remember?"

And for a second she believed him. As he hovered over her, poking fun, teasing her, his eyes were Fred's. But as their eyes remained locked and his face lingered so close to her own, his expression softened and his eyes became strictly his own again. They expressed his realization that his closeness was making her uncomfortable. He backed away, just far enough so that their legs wouldn't touch at all. Angelina looked down, blushing, afraid to look at him, knowing he was turning red too.

"It's in your eyes," she repeated, looking at the picture. "Fred is just laughing and looking at the camera. He's a boy. He hasn't a care in the world. But you – you keep stealing glances at his mouth; like you're still afraid you might have hurt him. It's the way he was after your ear, only you were always that way."

They sat in awkward silence. Angelina's thoughts were distracted by her need to know what was going through George's head. She turned several pages before remembering that he'd made tea and placed the open book on his lap so she could reach for her mug. He didn't move when she sat.

"I can't believe it's been six months," she said softly. He said nothing. "Hey," she said, touching the curtain of orange hair that separated his eyes from hers. He flinched, and she wasn't sure if she'd startled him or if he hadn't wanted her to see the hole where his ear had been.

"George, you know you're my best friend but you need to stop doing this," she said, closing the album and placing it back on the table. "Every time we have a laugh together you get guilty and silent. You're the first person to say he'd want us all to get on with our lives but the last to take your own advice." He let her brush his hair back this time.

"It's not that."

Angelina reached for the album again, opening it on her lap and flipping to the place where she'd left off. He leaned toward her, evidently looking at the pictures too.

She found one of their second year Quidditch team. "I guess all our training came in handy," he said. She looked at him and saw he was smiling, and remarked again the eyes that were so like, yet so unlike those she'd loved, those she'd never see again. She loved George too, though in quite a different way than she'd loved Fred, yet…

Angelina thought as she leaned toward George that what she was doing was wrong, unhealthy even. But then she kissed his bottom lip gently, drawing it between her own lips slightly before pulling away just far enough to whisper, "I'm sorry," before kissing his top lip. He was kissing her back before she reached the bottom again. Then he had lifted the album off her lap and was laying her back onto the couch. His kisses were tender and slow and contained a passion that had nothing to do with romance or sex. Angelina knew they loved and needed each other in a way not even they could understand. Together, they were whole. She found herself wondering again what George was thinking, whether maybe she could make him as happy. It might have been wrong, but for now, this was just right.

* * *

_So it's probably not what many of you pictured, but it's the way I've always seen it happening. Not even I'm entirely happy with it, but it is what it is._

_My apologies again, for being late and for writing a probably not-so-great chapter. If there are any events in Fred's, George's or Angelina's life or in any combination of their relationships that you'd rather read about, by all means, make a request and if it's something I'm interested in, I'd be glad to write it._

_Reviews make me smile and earn you a coveted spot in my opening author's notes._

_DO IT._

_Expect an update tomorrow. Or possibly sooner. Who knows?_

danielle,  
or **Edinburgh Love**.


	12. Havoc

**A/N:** _Judging by the lack of reviews for Chapter 11, I'm guessing not many of you enjoyed it. You can all blame the terribly sad movies I watched all day yesterday for the Chapter 11's nostalgic tone. Can you tell I have a hard time writing anything that falls anywhere between the poles on the spectrum of sad and funny? _

_Thank you to again to everyone who's reviewed: _**monkeyface52**_, _**too lazy to log in :)**_, _**761622**_,_** Chocofreakazoid**_,_** Nacata**_,_** gothicpiratevictoria**_,_** labratlove**_,_** Immortal Sailor Cosmos**_,_** jocat**_,_** MadeNew**_,_** you know who**_, _**Luciana Sawyer Snape**_, and _**Eternal Silver Flame**_. Without your words, I would have stopped doing this eleven chapters ago._

_The fortune, fame, pride, and pressure that come with owning Angelina and the twins all belong to J.K. Rowling._

* * *

Havoc

Angelina hated Umbridge. She loathed Umbridge, detested her. Despised her. She tried to replay the events of the night's game in her head, but her thoughts were repeatedly interrupted by images of a toad-like face and the realization that she'd lost her team's beaters and seeker. And now, when she should have been recruiting new players, she was stuck in the library researching for the latest Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. For Umbridge. That cow.

The parchment in front of her was blank even after a quarter hour of sitting there; the textbook next to it was open but equally untouched but for a small heart Angelina had drawn on the corner of the open page and was now filling with Fred's initials.

"You know, there are a lot of wound up old women in this school who might have a heart attack if they saw that," a voice said quietly in her ear.

"Is Umbridge one of them?" she asked, unalarmed by the disruption and refusing to look up at him. She regretted the hint of anger in her voice. It wasn't his fault.

"I'm sorry, Ange."

"Don't be. It's not a big deal," she lied, still looking down.

"I wish I would have at least gotten to punch Malfoy, that little ferret. I got kicked off the team and I didn't even hit him. What use is that? What the hell am I supposed to do here now?"

Angelina heard the frustration in his voice and knew that it matched her own. She was used to him making a joke of everything, even when it seemed inappropriate to everyone else. But now he was annoyed and angry. All because of Umbridge. That toad.

She looked directly into his eyes as she spoke. "Reek havoc. Get even. Annoy Umbridge. No one can do it quite like you and George can."

"And I suppose you suggest I start by drawing hearts in all her textbooks?" he said, laughing.

"Something like that," she said before kissing him.

* * *

_I know it's short but I wrote it in between classes. Look for another one later, and as always, please review._

danielle.

_P.S. I only noticed after the fact that the day they got kicked off the team was November 2, the same day which in 1998 would have marked 6 months since Fred died, which is when Chapter 11 took place. Weirdness._


	13. Chances

**A/N:** _There's no excuse for my SERIOUS lack of updates. However, I will say that I've been working on a bigger, better, more-cohesive project for months, so you can all look forward to that as a reward for your patience._

_Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, especially_ **monkeyface52**_._

* * *

"What do you do with it?" Fred's voice was disgusted, yet oddly intrigued.

Angelina rolled her eyes. "It's obvious, isn't it?"

"No," both twins said.

"I mean…" George started, staring at the wet, rubbery thing.

"But…why? Who in their right mind would want to put that…? How does it…? Where do you…? Ugh. Gross." Fred shuddered. George had never seen him so visibly disturbed.

"Muggle women don't have magic to stop them from getting up the duff," Angelina explained.

Fred guffawed. "I'd take my chances before I'd let you get that thing anywhere near me."

George groaned. Hearing about his brother's sex life was one thing, but hearing Fred and Angelina discussing their sex life was a whole new realm of discomfort.

"You'd let it near you if you had a Muggle girlfriend."

"Wouldn't have to. I'd still be a Wizard."

"It doesn't work that way."

"What does it matter anyway? Your cousin is a Muggle. She and her unfortunate boyfriend have to use these disgusting things. But we don't."

"What if I was a Muggle?"

"Then you'd have to find a Muggle bloke to get off with, I suppose." Angelina scowled. Fred laughed at her persistence. "No. Not a chance in hell. I'd die first. I'd even die a virgin, if that was the case, which, thankfully, it definitely isn't."

Angelina exhaled loudly before shifting her weight and addressing the other twin. "George," _Please don't involve me_, he thought, surveying his twin's blatant unease. "If you had met a Muggle woman who wanted to have it off with you, you'd use one of these, wouldn't you?"

The thing truly did look horrible. Possibly painful, even. And very, very funny.

"Not a chance. Thanks, though, for assuming I'd shag the first bird to come around looking for it." He had to avoid his twin's eyes to keep from laughing.

"I'm glad you two find it so amusing."

"Honestly, Ange, what did you expect?" Fred asked.

"I expected you'd use it for inspiration."

Fred and George exchanged glances before Fred finally said, "While it should be said that our business does not wish to condone the plastic wrapping of anyone's bits—"

"—We'd be happy to use your contribution to inspire of a whole new brand of humor."

* * *

_So it's nothing special, I know. But Computer Class is dreadfully boring and it's my birthday and I thought it was about time I contributed something new._

_**~Edinburgh Love**  
_


End file.
